


Wearing Each Other's Clothes

by remanth



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Post-TWOTL, Scent Kink, wearing each other's clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7735474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal enjoys the sight of Will in his clothes. He enjoys just as much their mingled scents when he has Will in his arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wearing Each Other's Clothes

“Is that my shirt?”

Hannibal’s quiet voice broke the stillness in the darkened room. Will froze at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at the man he’d thought was sleeping soundly. They’d stumbled into this little apartment somewhere on the coast, bleeding, soaked, and half-dead just two days ago. He’d dug the bullet out of Hannibal and closed up the wound. Afterwards, Hannibal had cleaned and bandaged the wounds he’d gotten in the fight.

After another round of cleaning and bandaging, they’d both fallen asleep in the bedroom Will was currently trying to walk quietly out of. They’d scavenged some clothes from the dressers, Will making a mental note to try and find the owners of the place and maybe pay them back. He’d gone to bed wearing only boxers while Hannibal had chosen to sleep nude. Will had woken up a few hours later, throat completely dry. He’d thrown on the first thing that came to hand, the light blue button down shirt Hannibal had been wearing earlier before padding to the door in search of water.

“I guess so,” Will replied, looking down at his chest. He hadn’t bothered buttoning the shirt. “That a problem?”

Hannibal sat up in bed, his eyes glittering in the weak moonlight filtering through the gauzy curtains in the window. He moved fluidly, albeit slowly, and there was an intensity on his face that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a wolf. Will swallowed involuntarily at the sight. Then a slow blink and the feral expression faded to one more pleasant and warm.

“Not at all,” Hannibal said, a flash of teeth in the moonlight the only sign of his smile. “I find I rather enjoy seeing you in my clothing, Will.”

Will let out a somewhat awkward huff that could charitably be called a chuckle. He left the room then, padding to the bathroom with one hand on the wall to keep him from bumping into anything. He didn’t know this place as well as his own home. A sudden spike of homesickness speared through him and Will was fairly sure he was never going to see home or his dogs again. Or Molly. But he’d made his choice when he’d killed Dolarhyde with Hannibal. Had made it again when putting on Hannibal’s shirt.

He spent a little longer in the bathroom than he needed to, letting the water run until it was freezing cold. Studying himself in the mirror, Will almost didn’t recognize the man looking back at him. There were deep bags under his eyes and his eyes were sunken. There were a few scrapes on his face, all thanks to rocks he’d run into in the water pulling himself and Hannibal to shore. The flesh of his face looked stretched over his bones, as if he’d lost weight. It lent him a somewhat inhuman and feral appearance in the darkness.

Looking away from the mirror, Will filled the cup and drank deeply. The water rushed down his throat and slammed into his stomach like an avalanche. He savored the feeling a moment, wondering if Hannibal ever felt the same way when drinking something cold. Maybe he’d ask him. The cup made a little clinking noise as he set it on the sink then Will was padding back to the bedroom. He still wasn’t quite sure why he and Hannibal shared it, shared the bed, but there it was. He wasn’t complaining.

Inside the room, next to the bed, Will started to shrug out of the shirt. It still hurt to move and he bit back a hiss at the pain. He couldn’t stop the grimace his lips contorted into, however. He felt more than saw Hannibal move in the bed again and knew the man’s attention was focused on him. Will stopped trying to hide the grimace, letting Hannibal see the pain and the strength to keep going. It pleased both of them.

“Leave it on,” Hannibal said, his voice light at the suggestion. 

“Why?” Will asked, more to prod Hannibal than to fight the suggestion.

“Because I enjoy seeing you in it,” Hannibal replied. “And because I’d like to see what our mingled scents smell like. Come here, Will.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Will pulled the shirt back up on his shoulders. He crawled into the bed carefully, grimacing again as his wounds pulled. He settled gingerly into Hannibal’s arms, turning on his side so that his back rested against Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal’s arm draped over his side, hand splaying over the scar on Will’s chest that he’d given him. Then Hannibal tucked his nose against the back of Will’s neck and inhaled deeply.

“So?” Will asked after a few minutes. 

“So?” Hannibal repeated, his words muffled against Will’s skin. His fingers traced over the scar on Will’s stomach, a surprisingly soothing back and forth motion that had Will relaxing back against Hannibal.

“What do you think? Our scents,” Will clarified. “How do we smell to you?”

“Better without that unfortunate cologne,” Hannibal said. He huffed out a quiet laugh that feathered over Will’s neck and made him shiver. “There’s the scent of blood of course. A rich iron and copper tang that coats my tongue and thrusts down my throat.”

He paused as Will shivered again, his lips drawing back from his teeth. His choice of words had been deliberate and he was pleased that Will had reacted as he had. Giving in to the impulse, Hannibal dragged his teeth over the back of Will’s neck, tightening the hand on his stomach as he did so. That brought a gratifying moan from Will that was more breath than voice.

“Then there’s the antiseptic and bandages,” Hannibal continued, his voice a purr. “Stark, cold, and very bitter for the antiseptic. It dances around the scent of blood, both hiding and illuminating. The bandages smell a bit like clean linen though not of much else. Very sterile.”

“Is that so?” Will asked, struggling to make his voice even and steady. He draped a hand over Hannibal’s on his stomach, pressing both against his skin. “Very clinical, doctor. But what about _us_?”

“You smell musky and earthy, Will,” Hannibal whispered, leaning even closer to Will so that his lips moved against Will’s skin. “Like sandalwood and pine and the adrenaline that’s now flooding your body. Without that cologne, that’s the smell of you, of your skin. And my scent, still on the shirt, mingles beautifully with it.”

“And what do you smell like, Hannibal?” Will asked, angling his head back a little to make the side of his neck more accessible to Hannibal’s lips. He wondered idly if the other man would take the invitation. “To go with sandalwood and pine?”

“Something similar,” Hannibal mused. He stared at Will for a second then took him up on his invitation. Sheets whispered underneath his body as Hannibal shifted enough to press his lips to the side of Will’s neck. “Some of my scents come from cooking. Orange and vanilla that blend with the scent of leather. Our scents together are warm and sensual and bright, something to be tasted and savored.”

He suited his actions to the words, licking a long stripe up Will’s neck. He pulled Will tighter against him as he shivered again, letting their joined hands on Will’s stomach slide just a little lower. Will let out a sigh and shifted his hips so that he was lying slightly more on his back against Hannibal.

“I think I like our combined scents,” Will said then yawned. It stretched his jaws wide enough to make them crack and was completely unexpected. There was no way he would have been able to stop it. He chuckled again and settled his head in the crook of Hannibal’s neck. “Looks like, much as I would like to continue this conversation, my body is rebelling.”

“Sleep then, Will,” Hannibal said. His voice was indescribably gentle, something Will had only ever heard directed towards him. Hannibal moved their joined hands over Will’s belly to a more comfortable position. “We have all the time in the world to continue our conversation. Sleep.”

Within moments, Will was sound asleep. Hannibal watched him for a few minutes, eyes tracing over the edges and planes of his face. They’d finally become what he’d hoped for, what he’d hoped Will could be. Even with the mis-steps and miscommunications, they’d circled back around each other to be in this spot at this moment. To be safe and content within each other’s arms. And the next morning, when Hannibal was wearing one of the plaid shirts Will had taken from the dresser, he felt a flash of warmth at the wide smile Will sent him.


End file.
